Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 271: A king only by name

Chapter 271: Chapter 271: A king only by name
Marianne Lancaster had become Commander of the Rohan Air Force at twenty-three.
In press releases, it had been called a historic event. A testament to meritocracy. Proof that Rohan rewarded strength regardless of gender or pedigree. The truth was less flattering. King Varlen had not promoted her because he admired her. He had done it because dominant alphas like Marianne made people nervous, and dangerous things were easier to monitor when they were placed directly under the crown.
Now, ten years later, she stood in the executive office overlooking the capital, glass walls dimmed to opacity, while Varlen paced like a man personally insulted by gravity itself.
The tablet on his desk still displayed the diplomatic note.
Not from Dax of Saha, but from his Prime Minister, Sahir Admane, an omega male Varlen hated with all his might.
"That man," Varlen snapped, stabbing a finger at the screen, "has no throne, no bloodline, no divine mandate, and yet he sends me a reprimand."
Marianne didn’t blink. "Prime ministers tend to do that when kings pretend incidents were accidents."
Varlen turned sharply. "A waiter tripped."
"A Rohan diplomat spilled soup on the King of Saha’s consort during a private lunch," Marianne corrected coolly. "In full view of security cameras with at least three angles to prove their accusation."
Varlen scoffed. "And Sahir dares threaten access sanctions? Airspace reviews? As if he speaks for Dax."
"He does," Marianne said. "That’s the point of a Prime Minister, Your Majesty. You would know if you wouldn’t ignore yours every single day." She paused and moved to the window. "Dax would rather declare war than deal with more paperwork; you should be grateful that it wasn’t Dax who was issuing the warnings."
Varlen’s jaw tightened. "Do not lecture me on governance."
Marianne didn’t turn back from the window. Below them, the capital moved in its usual ordered chaos, traffic spirals, security convoys, and the illusion of calm that only existed because people like her made sure it did. "Then don’t insult my intelligence by calling sabotage a stumble."
Silence stretched, heavy and brittle.
Marianne turned to the man in front of her. The useless man that called himself a king.
"We have several options, but all of them could provoke the mad king even more."
"Why don’t you go?" Varlen asked with a grin Marianne hated. "You have a good relationship with him. I still wonder why he never considered you an option." He pushed the only weakness Marianne had.
"Your Majesty, if there is an order, I will go as for the tastes of Dax, you should ask him directly. As dominant alphas, we need dominant omegas."
"Yes, but there is a history of a couple of dominant alphas, male and female, and their bond being complete." He pushed further.
Marianne’s mouth curved into something far too cruel to be a smile.
"History also shows," she said evenly, "that those bonds only function when both parties choose them freely. Anything else ends in corpses, coups, or both."
Varlen waved a dismissive hand. "You’re being sentimental."
"No," Marianne replied, finally turning fully to face him. "I’m being accurate."
He rose from behind the desk, slowly shifting his increasing weight, the grin still there. "You could have been queen somewhere, you know. If you’d been more... flexible."
The insult slipped off her; she had grown accustomed to this man’s cruelty. She and the rest of the country hoped that at least one of his heirs would have the potential to rule. The king would die as soon as they discovered one from the dozens of them. "And you could have been respected," she said calmly, "if you understood the difference between leverage and provocation."
Varlen’s small, dark eyes narrowed. "Careful."
"I am," Marianne answered. "Constantly. It’s why Rohan still has an air force capable of deterring Saha instead of provoking it into erasing us from the map."
She stepped closer, her blue eyes narrowing at the shorter man. "If you send me, I will speak to Dax as a head of state. If you attempt to turn this into a grotesque bargaining play, he will not negotiate. He will retaliate and Sahir will make it legal."
Varlen scoffed. "You overestimate an omega’s reach."
Marianne’s gaze sharpened. "You underestimate what happens when an omega is trusted by a king who doesn’t need permission to burn cities."
Silence fell again, this time colder.
After a long moment, Varlen exhaled through his nose. "Fine," he said. "You’ll go. You’ll lead the delegation. You’ll smooth this over."
"And what conditions are there?" Marianne asked.
Varlen’s smile returned, thin and unpleasant. "You’ll take Heather with you and make sure this time Dax accepts her as consort."
Marianne didn’t answer him right away.
For a moment, she simply stood there, looking at Varlen as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time in years, not as a king, not even as a tyrant, but as a man so desperate for control that he was willing to rot the ground beneath his own feet to feel taller.
"Heather is fifteen," she said at last. Her voice had softened, stripped of command and edged instead with something unmistakably human. "You know that. Six months ago, you made the same offer to Dax, and the only reason he didn’t kill everyone in the room was that his newly discovered dominant omega was waiting for him in Saha. He chose to walk away. He married the omega, Varlen."
Varlen’s mouth twitched, unimpressed. "He didn’t do it publicly," he said. "They only have a paper signed."
Marianne stared at him.
"A legal bond," she said slowly. "Recognized by Saha, enforced by its courts, and backed by a king who does not need ceremony to make something real."
Varlen waved a hand. "A private arrangement that could be reversed at any moment."
"You are deluding yourself," Marianne replied, the quiet in her voice now carrying weight. "Dax does not half-commit. He never has. If he signed that paper, it’s because the bond already existed in every way that mattered."
"Then why do you want to go, Marianne?" Varlen asked, his tone cooling into a scheming one Marianne knew too well. "I know you want him. And you wouldn’t step onto Saha soil without a plan."
He moved closer, stopping only when he reached her chest, forced to tilt his head back to look at her properly. "I don’t care what that plan is," he continued. "If I keep my crown and you make Heather consort, we both get what we want. You get him. I get leverage."
For a long moment, Marianne said nothing.
She felt the familiar pressure settle behind her ribs, the place where desire and restraint had lived side by side for years. She had buried it under discipline, under rank, under the satisfaction of command. But Varlen was right about one thing.
She had never gone anywhere without a plan.
"You think this is about ownership," she said finally, her voice low. "About trading one body for another."
Varlen smiled. "I think it’s about opportunity."
Marianne exhaled slowly. The truth was uglier than either of them wanted to name. Six months ago, Dax had chosen a dominant omega who had stepped into his life at the last moment. Marianne had watched from a distance as the world reshaped itself around that bond.
"Fine." She said and left without another word.